Rage Against the Dying Light
by Irhaboggle
Summary: Elle didn't turn evil over night. In fact, she was able to retain her goodness for quite a long time, but even someone as pure as she was bound to crack after enough torture, reminders from the past and future both coming to taunt her in her Hell. She did not go gentle into that good night. She went in raging against the dying light. (Just Elle's descent into madness).


Elle paced endlessly through her schloss. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, down the long and winding halls. She chanted to herself, clutching her head in feeble attempt to maintain the last few strands of her sanity. She plugged her ears, trying to block out the distant sounds of an age-old argument going on right over her head.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Do not go gentle into that good night. Do not go gentle into that good night..." over and over and over and over again, Elle whispered this line to herself, trying to fight against the madness encroaching upon her mind. Like a broken record, or a song on an endless repeat, Elle continued to whisper to herself as the alternate version of her hiding within the library harmonized, arguing with the girl that had allowed all of this to happen in the first place: Carmilla Karnstein.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Do not go gentle into that good night. Do not go gentle into that good night!" Elle commanded of herself, clawing at her ears now and rubbing her eyes, trying to keep the darkness from creeping into her vision and blinding her forever. Her breathing was hard and shallow, like she had just run a marathon, but it was such an enormous effort for her, resisting the dark temptation of evil and vengeance, that she probably would've found a marathon far easier to complete than this present, spiritual task of trying not to allow her anger and bitterness get the best of her. But as Elle began to pace faster and faster through the halls, like a rat trapped in a maze with no end, she began to wonder, humorlessly, if she might not end up running a marathon after all, and all while trying to keep the darkness at bay and retain the last vestiges of her goodness and compassion too.

But all at once, her running ceased. Her feet came to a halt and her breathing stopped again. For a whole minute, the world was total still and silent, not a single noise anywhere and not so much as one little speck of dust moving through the air. Elle, herself, was still able to move, but for some reason, she could already tell that everything else within her schloss had come to a total standstill. But then, right before she could even begin to wonder, a hole tore itself open right in the middle of the air in front of her. Although it was somewhat hard to see through, Elle squinted hard enough into the hole and could make out... Carmilla Karnstein! And that girl! The very one that Elle had visited several times in dream earlier that autumn. What was her name? Lauren Hollows? Or something like that? What were they doing down here? So close to her afterlife! Usually, whenever Elle managed to escape her schloss, she had to move upward in order to reach everyone else, leading her to believe that whatever Hell she was trapped in was deep below ground. So that must mean that Carmilla and Lauren-Laurie-Laura or whatever were both down here as well. But how? And why? And what was going on...?

Suddenly, the hole went totally dark and black, the blindly white light that had once emitted from it extinguishing itself like one blowing out a candle. Then, a second later, the hole sewed itself shut again and, in the distance, Elle could hear a very familiar argument starting up again.

"It's done!" it was Carmilla's voice, happy and hopeful, followed by the sound of a door shutting. Elle already knew that the door would open one last time in about two and a half minutes, but it would not be Carmilla who exited, rather, it would be Elle, herself, her heart broken by the dark truth that Carmilla had hidden from her. Meanwhile, Carmilla herself would remain in the library, grieving for what she had done...

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Do not go gentle into that good night. Do not go gentle into that good night!"

But then, a bit less than a year later, another random ripple ran through Elle's schloss and, like before, one of these ripples opened up a portal to the outside world where Carmilla and the girl, Laura, as Elle now knew, were together again, only this time, it looked like Laura was dead. And Carmilla was weeping over her corpse. But then, suddenly, somehow, after Carmilla left Laura's body, escaping from Elle's tiny window of view, Laura suddenly began to convulse. She trembled, taking in a loud, ragged breath, eyes shooting open. What?! How?! How had Laura been brought back to life?! For she had most certainly been dead! Elle could sense it even through whatever distance stood between them. Elle peered deeper into the window and felt her heart sting as Carmilla pulled Laura in for a kiss, sweet and deep. And that was when Elle was certain she could feel another life being returned from the land of the dead. This time, it was Carmilla's, mortality and humanity restored to her and vampirism removed. Elle could only stare, genuinely dumbstruck, before the little ripple evened out again, closing her window to the outside yet again.

For a solid 10 minutes, Elle continued to stare at the empty space where that window had been, but as her sense of self slowly returned, suddenly, the only thing that remained was disbelief, hatred, bitterness, hurt and indignation. In just one little flash of a vision, the ghost girl had forgotten all of her years of striving towards goodness and all she could remember was watching Carmilla get her life back, and go home with the girl of her dreams, who had also somehow been able to reclaim her life from the dead even though Elle, herself, was stuck in her Hellish schloss.

Suddenly, the deepest and profoundest of rages filled Elle from the soles of her feet to the very top of her head and the entire schloss seemed to shift with her emotional change. It began to storm outside and the schloss darkened until it was as though the place had been cast into an eternal night. The whole building began to shake and creak like a haunted mansion and even though Elle could still hear that age-old argument between her and Carmilla, it was somewhat drowned out by the tempest raging outside the door.

But that was nothing compared to the tempest raging within. All at once, Elle began to pace again, just like so many years before. She clutched her head, trying to block out and deny everything that she had seen and heard in that little ripple, but it was to no avail. She paced harder and faster, steps speeding up and growing louder and louder against the creaking wood floor. Her chanting became harsh and ragged, voice low and angry. As she stomped back and forth, back and forth, back and forth down the long and winding halls, her chanting grew louder and louder with the storm going on outside of her home.

"Rage, rage against the dying light. Rage, rage against the dying light! RAGE, RAGE AGAINST THE DYING LIGHT!" and Elle knew at once that she would never submit or surrender again. She would never go down without a fight. She would exact her revenge against Carmilla and she would get her life back, no matter the cost. She would fight until the very end, she would rage, rage against her fate, rage against injustice, rage against unhappy endings, rage against her lost life, rage against her present death, rage against her schloss, rage against Hell, rage against Heaven, rage against the dying light of her life. She would rage, she would rage forever, against the dying light, and nothing could stop her! She would rage and rage and rage...

 **AN: Just inspired off the first and last lines of the famous Dylan Thomas poem (though I am aware that, technically, Elle would not have known this poem since it was only written in 1914).**


End file.
